For the sake of Myrna Dartson and the many others who have suffered at the hands of the Catholic Church, it’s a relief to see law enforcement run out of patience with the local diocese and its foot-dragging on sex abuse allegations.

Wednesday’s search warrant affidavit lays out accusations of how the diocese stonewalled the police’s good-faith efforts to investigate allegations of sexual violence.

Dartson, who got a run-around from the church in the 1980s about her accusations of inappropriate behavior by a priest, was the first person I thought about after hearing that the police had raided diocese offices Wednesday. The first words out of her mouth when I called her were “None of this is surprising. So much is still being covered up.”

Victims’ voices went unheard for years as the Dallas Catholic Diocese claimed that it had done nothing wrong. And when it could no longer cling to that outrageous and arrogant lie in the face of growing evidence of molestations and allegations of cover-ups, the diocese begrudgingly apologized.

Most recently, Bishop Edward J. Burns has claimed to lead the way on transparency as he challenged other dioceses and even the Vatican to do better. But at its best — and I use that word with a large degree of skepticism — the local diocese and the church universal still haven’t done enough.

It’s another part of a piecemeal and lawyered approach to dealing with what amounts to a criminal conspiracy that allowed the sexual assault of minors to go on for decades. All the Catholic leaders’ pretty words of compassion, in light of this affidavit, just seem like another attempt to whitewash the church's image.

I’ve spent much of the past five years reporting about survivors of sexual assault and sexual abuse — and the institutions that have dramatically failed them. So often in these narratives of systemic failures, the response is continued secrecy, suspicion and a drip-drip-drip of ugly details. The Catholic Church’s bad behavior is only the latest rerun of these sorry stories and serves as evidence for why we need better protections for victims of monsters disguised as saints — and from powerful institutions’ instincts for self-preservation.

Dartson, a lifelong member of St. Peter the Apostle Catholic Church, is one of those who deserved better.

Last fall, my colleague David Tarrant and I told the story of Dartson and her twin sister, Micaela, who say that, as 19-year-old college sophomores, they were victimized by a Dallas parish priest. They said the priest sexually harassed them, grabbed at their breasts and buttocks, pulled on their bras and made vile, suggestive comments.

After first reporting her allegations to the diocese in 1989, Myrna tried repeatedly to get help from the Catholic Church. Most recently, she described the details to Burns in January 2018. But it was only after The Dallas Morning News started asking questions last fall that she received even an apology from the diocese. Although the accused priest denied the Dartsons’ allegations from his most recent post in Florida, the diocese there put him on administrative leave.

Perhaps the police’s stepped-up involvement means “someone will acknowledge those of us who were victimized who haven’t gotten justice,” Dartson said.

And just as I do, Dartson sees concerning parallels between her experiences with the diocese and the details in the affidavit. Perhaps some of the details are overblown or a product of miscommunication between cops and Catholic Church leaders, but it’s not unreasonable to wonder whether local diocese officials were truly sorry for what happened or just sorry they got caught.

According to the affidavit, Mary Edlund, former chancellor of the diocese, contacted Dallas police about molestation allegations against Edmundo Paredes, the pastor at St. Cecilia. Detective David Clark wrote in the affidavit that Edlund contacted him only because the diocese knew the allegations would spark media attention. The affidavit alleges Edlund told Clark “it would look better to say they contacted the police.” Clark then said that diocesan officials who said they were cooperating continued to withhold information from files.

Edlund, who retired in September after four decades with the diocese, did not respond to a request for comment Wednesday from The Dallas Morning News.

Dartson told me Wednesday that those words are similar to Edlund’s responses to her own concerns. “She was unfeeling, uncaring, patronizing — and worried that we were causing trouble with our concerns.”

After The News published the Dartson sisters’ story, Clark interviewed them as part of his assignment to investigate sex-abuse allegations against Dallas clergy members.

Myrna Dartson said her file from the diocese included only minimal notes that she felt failed to capture the enormity of the case. She also was taken aback to see that Edlund had suggested that Myrna was seeking financial gains. “I never asked for financial gains,” Myrna told me. “We just wanted to know where [the priest] was — and were concerned that he was coming back to the church for anniversary celebration.”

The police raid and accusation that the Dallas Catholic Diocese has been less than forthcoming with law enforcement also coincided with a hugely significant debate this week in Austin regarding whether to hold culpable institutions fully accountable in sexual abuse cases.

A Dallas Police vehicle outside St. Cecilia Catholic Church in Dallas on Wednesday. Dallas police officers raided several Dallas Catholic Diocese offices after a detective said church officials have not cooperated with investigations into sexual abuse by its past clergy members.

(Dave Tarrant/Dallas Morning News)

Smart legislation introduced by Rep. Craig Goldman, R-Fort Worth, and bolstered by Becky Leach’s powerful public revelations about her years of childhood sexual abuse, would double the window of time victims have to sue someone who sexually abused them as a child.

But as the bill made its way through the Capitol, a loophole was inserted for institutions such as churches, sports groups and youth organizations. The final House legislation, now in the Senate, still lengthens the period for civil action from 15 to 30 years after a victim’s 18th birthday. But revised language carves out third parties from any liability after 15 years.

While it’s still early in this latest sorry chapter in the local Catholic diocese’s handling of sex abuse cases, the details of the police warrant are Exhibit A in why Austin must get this legislation right. Enabling institutions will only change their ways if they know they will be held accountable for doing otherwise.

Chris Kaiser, director of public policy and general counsel at the Texas Association Against Sexual Assault, said the search warrant affidavit is “yet another clear example of how organizations and bystanders can enable years of abuse by protecting serial predators, like Larry Nassar and Jerry Sandusky."

“That is why HB 3809 by Rep. Craig Goldman, if passed in a version that covers both individual abusers and culpable third parties, would be one of the most powerful bills for sexual assault survivors this session,” Kaiser said.

The Catholic Church’s role in this decades-long tragedy is hideous and must never be repeated. If the accusations in the police warrant aren’t overblown, the diocese’s motives feel a lot more like a PR campaign than any real effort to change.

To me, Dartson’s words — that the latest diocese developments are just “the same ol’ blind eye. It just turns its back on us again and again” — say it all.

Now it’s up to Dallas law enforcement — whom we can count on to get bad people off the street — to come to survivors’ rescue. I’ll keep faith that they will.